


Everything to Me

by Stepha_Stargaryen



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Fluff and Smut, Jon and Sansa Are Not Related
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-24
Updated: 2016-12-03
Packaged: 2018-08-24 09:18:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 11,314
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8366821
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Stepha_Stargaryen/pseuds/Stepha_Stargaryen
Summary: When a car crash left her parents and older brother dead and her younger brother crippled, Sansa dropped out of university to keep her siblings from becoming wards of the state. Long-time family friend Jon has been helping out as much as he can. The two navigate roles they never thought they'd have to fulfill this early as they build a friendship/relationship they never thought to have with each other.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Trying my hand at a modern AU! I can't decide if I should add more to this fic or not. Feedback is welcome and appreciated!
> 
> Character's ages:  
> Jon - 25  
> Sansa - 20  
> Arya - 16  
> Bran - 12  
> Rickon - 9

“You guys, come on! Dinner’s getting cold!”

Sansa became so easily frustrated when her siblings acted ungrateful, even unintentionally. As a girl, she had always dreamed of a domestic life, full of sewing and cooking and keeping house and caring for children, but this was not what she had in mind. Ever since her parents and older brother perished in a car crash early last year, her life came to a screeching halt.

She dropped everything to care for her siblings. She had just started her second semester at NYU when her Aunt Lysa and Uncle Petyr showed up in her comparative politics class and her world fell apart. She was double majoring in political science and public relations. Just that morning had excitedly discussed the possibility of studying abroad in Spain with her roommate Margaery. Those plans now seemed like they belonged to a different girl in a different lifetime.

Even though she was her mother’s sister, Aunt Lysa was completely unlike Catelyn Stark. She lost no sleep over the idea of Sansa’s three younger siblings going into foster care, even Bran who was paralyzed in the accident and still in recovery. She had offered to let Sansa stay with her, but only at the behest of her husband, Petyr. Sansa had always felt uneasy around him, with his leering and lingering touches. Enthusiastically using excuses of consoling and comforting her, his hands snaked around her twice as often as they would even after too much wine at Thanksgiving. There was no way in hell she’d live under the same roof as him. When she declined their proposition, the pair all but vanished from their lives.

Thankfully, her parents had owned their home so they managed to keep a roof over their heads. However, with Bran’s medical bills and a surprising lack of inheritance (Her father’s business partner Howland explained, “Ned didn’t exactly plan on dying this early.”), Sansa barely made enough to keep everyone fed and clothed. Arya recently started working part-time at a fencing club after school, but Sansa was adamant that her coursework be her top priority. She didn’t want her sister to lose out on her future as well.

Her saving grace was Robb’s best friend, Jon Snow. Being raised an only child by a single mom, Jon didn’t have much of a family life. His mother Lyanna loved him fiercely, but she worked two full-time minimum wage jobs and he was left to fend for himself most of the time. Growing up, he was over for dinner most nights per week and present at every family holiday. After Lyanna died of cervical cancer when he was still a senior in high school, Jon even lived with them to finish out the year before he left with Robb for West Point. It was almost funny; now Jon was the Stark’s source of stability and safety. Well, Sansa’s at least.

“This is delicious, San, as always.”

“Ha, well I’m glad someone’s here to enjoy it.”

He shot her a grin and she treasured it. His face was always so serious and brooding. When he gave her one of his rare smiles it filled her chest with warmth.

She heard the gallop of footsteps from the upstairs hallway and soon Rickon and Arya zoomed into the dining room, nearly crashing into the table. “I win! I win!” Rickon shrieked. He began giggling maniacally as Arya lunged to tickle him in revenge.

“It’s not really a fair race when one of us has to strap into a mechanical seat just to go down the stairs,” Bran said as he wheeled himself to the table. He’d adapted so well to his condition. He was able to care for himself, lift himself in and out of his wheelchair, all without complaint. Her parents would have been proud to see how far he’d come. She felt a sharp pain in her chest and her eyes stung as she realized her parents and Robb likely died not knowing her younger brothers would survive. _Mom may have known, she had to._ Her father and Robb had died at the scene, but her mother was rushed to the hospital with Bran and Rickon, who had miraculously escaped with only cuts and bruises.

“This happens sometimes with young children. They are little, flexible, and don’t tense up like the rest of us in an accident. His car seat certainly helped. We want to make sure he doesn’t have a concussion, but other than that it looks like Rickon will be just fine.” She remembered her intense relief hearing the doctor’s explanation as she waited with Arya, who had thankfully been staying the night at her friend Myrcella’s, at her mother’s bedside. She hoped her mother heard that, just as she hoped she heard her tell her that Bran’s surgery was successful and that he’d survive as well. She’d never know for sure though; Catelyn never woke from her coma. Sansa had to make the gut wrenching decision to take her off life support after the doctors broke the news that all brain activity had ceased.

Jon nudged her foot under the table. “You okay?” he mouthed. She nodded, picking at her food a bit longer before excusing herself to the kitchen. She began washing the pots and pans in the sink, desperately trying to force her mind elsewhere. It was no use. Her tears hit the water with tiny splashes and she wondered if the pain would always be this intense.

“Do you need any help?” His voice was soft behind her. She shook her head, desperately wiping at her eyes with her arm.

“Hey, come here,” he said after her obviously unsuccessful attempt to hide her crying. She felt his warm hand on her shoulder as she turned around to collapse into his chest. He cooed sweet, supportive words and hushed her as he ran his fingers through her hair.

“When will it get easier?” she asked, her voice desperate. She sounded exhausted.

“I don’t know,” Jon sighed. He struggled too, she knew. Ned and Cat were his second parents, Robb like a brother. To lose them after losing his mom… She squeezed him tightly at the thought of his equally heavy grief. Her wet fingers squished.

“Oh, Jon, I’m sorry!” she laughed against him, moving to pull away. “I forgot my hands were soapy.”

He chuckled. “It’s fine, I’m pretty sure this shirt is overdue for a wash anyway.”

She rinsed her hands and dried them off, taking her towel to the back of Jon’s shirt.

“If you want, you can grab a clean shirt out of Robb’s room.” She immediately cringed at her suggestion. _Yeah, why don’t you go dig through my dead brother’s closet? That should be a fun activity for both of us._

Jon cleared his throat. “Uh, that’s okay. I should be heading home anyway.” He turned back toward the dining room and her heart raced.

“Jon—”

He looked back at her, his eyes a storm. _There’s the broody Jon I know._

“Must you go? The kids don’t have to be anywhere early tomorrow for once and I don’t have much work—I was thinking of staying up and watching a movie or two if you want to join.”

His face warmed into a smile before he glanced down at his watch.

“Unless you have to be somewhere,” she quickly added, her cheeks burning red. “Forget I said anything. It’s a Friday night, I’m sure you have something much more exciting to get to.”

He laughed, the corners of his eyes crinkling. “No, trust me, I don’t. There’s no place I’d rather be.” He pulled her to him and kissed the top of her head. She closed her eyes, savoring the contact.

He squeezed her hand. “I’ll get the rest of the plates from the table.”

 

After the dishes were done and the younger Starks were in bed, Sansa perused the wine cellar. She grabbed a bottle of pinot noir she remembered being one of her parents’ favorites. She grabbed two glasses and the wine opener from the kitchen and headed to the family room, catching Jon rifling through their DVDs.

“I don’t remember the last time I watched something I wasn’t streaming,” he laughed before looking up at her. His brow furled. “Wine?”

“Pinot.”

“Sansa…”

“Oh, come on, Jon. My 21st birthday is next month. I don’t think any cops are going to burst through our door.”

He smiled, shaking his head. He took the bottle from her hands. “Oh, this stuff is good. Fancy, even. Are you sure you want to open it?”

Sansa frowned. “They aren’t coming back for it.”

He eyed her with a sadness.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to be morbid. What do you want to watch?”

“Did you have anything in mind? This was your idea, after all.”

“It’s almost Halloween. Want to watch something scary?” She wiggled her eyebrows jokingly.

“If you want,” he smirked.

“Okay, you pick. I don’t watch horror movies so I don’t know what’s good,” she said from the couch as she opened the wine and poured them both generous glasses.

“A horror novice, huh? Well, let’s not get too crazy then.” He hummed, digging through their options. “Ah, how about this one?”

“Paranormal Activity? Is that even scary?”

“You’d be surprised.”

“Alright, I trust you.”

He queued up the film and turned off the lights, taking a seat on the opposite side of the couch.

“Oh, no you don’t. You can’t put on a scary movie and then be all the way over there!” she laughed, but she meant it.

He grinned. “Sorry. This side’s better though. Slide over here.”

She grabbed her wine and scooted down the couch enveloped in her blanket. He tugged on it. “Greedy.”

She rolled her eyes, unwrapping herself and laying it over both of them. “Better?”

“Much.” He took an ample sip of his wine. “God, this is good. I wish I had your taste in wine when I was 21. I only drank beer for years. Well, that and whiskey.”

“Such a _man,_ ” she chided. He elbowed her softly.

She tutted. “Careful, you’re going to make me spill my superb selection of wine.”

“Well, maybe if you didn’t fill our glasses to the brim it wouldn’t be such a problem.”

She rolled her eyes. She drank deeply from her glass until it was only half full.

“I didn’t say to chug it! Gosh, that’s a waste in itself.”

She laughed. “Sorry! Just because I have amazing taste doesn’t mean I know all the rules.”

He shook his head. Sansa was engrossed in the film and quickly noticed she needed a refill. As she poured hers, she gestured to Jon’s. “Want another glass?”

He downed the rest of his and handed it to her. _“Gosh,_ don’t chug it!” she teased. He smiled before his face dropped. He pulled out his vibrating phone and sighed.

“What is it?”

“Nothing, just give me a sec.” He typed out a quick text and stuck his phone back in his pocket. “Sorry.”

She frowned. “I knew you had plans.”

“It was nothing I wasn’t already trying to get out of. Trust me.”

Sansa raised an eyebrow at him before handing him a fresh glass of wine. He gulped it down.

“Jeez. We’re going to kill this bottle before we even get to the plot if you keep this up.”

“Sorry, I won’t have any more.”

She shrugged. “’Kay, I’ll just drink the rest myself. That should go well considering I’m half your body weight.”

He gave her a side-eye and she smirked at him, kicking his foot with hers. “I’ll pour you another glass.”

 

They ended up finishing the bottle before the movie was halfway through. Sansa was glad for it, because she did actually start to get pretty frightened. The movie kept building anticipation and making her jump, which only made Jon grin.

“This isn’t fair, you’ve seen it before,” she whined.

“I know, I’m sorry.”

She snuggled into his side and he wrapped his arm around her. She tried to concentrate on the screen but could only focus on the feel of his thumb softly rubbing up and down her arm. Her heart began to pound. She hoped if he could tell he would think her body was just reacting to the suspense of the movie.

She toyed with the buttons on his flannel shirt, letting her fingers explore the fabric separating her from his skin. Her head was pressed to his chest, and she could feel the rise and fall accelerate.

_Was he nervous too? He couldn’t possibly be. He doesn’t see me that way. I’m just a stupid, younger girl he’s nice to because he feels obligated to be. Right?_

She needed to test this theory. She slid her fingers down, moving from button to button, until she reached the last. She drew circles around it for a minute before sliding her fingers an inch lower to play with the hem of his shirt. She let her nails graze the bare skin underneath.

He sucked in slightly but otherwise didn’t react, keeping his eyes fixed to the television. She let her fingertips touch more of his skin, tracing the line of hair that started at his navel and continued downward. She blushed as her fingers lightly hit the top of his jeans. She continued to drag her nails around his happy trail and across his stomach, her knuckles lightly bumping against the buckle of his belt.

He was so fit—she could feel the ripples of his abdominal muscles and ached to touch his muscular arms and chest. She forgot subtlety and slid the tips of her fingers underneath the layer of denim.

Where his thumb had been softly stroking, his nails dug into her arm. His breath hitched. “Sansa…” he cautioned.

She was faced with a choice. She could forget this silly pursuit, slur an apology and blame it on the wine. They would never have to talk about it again. _Or…_

She looked up at him and brought her hand to his jaw. She leaned into him and pressed her lips to his neck, then his ear. “Jon,” she whispered, moving herself into his lap. His arms wrapped around her as her lips found his, so lush and full.

“Sansa.” Her name sounded like a song as it fell from his lips. His soft kisses became more urgent. Her tongue found his and she rocked her hips into him, gasping at the sensation of his stiffening cock.

“We shouldn’t,” he mumbled.

“We should,” she countered, her lips still touching his.

“Sansa, you had a lot of wine—”

“It’s not the wine,” she interjected, pressing her lips to his once more.

His fingers ran through her hair. “Are you sure?” he panted.

She smiled against his mouth. “I’m sure. I’ve wanted this. I’ve wanted you.”

He kissed her hard, his hands grasping at her back and waist. She gyrated against him, eliciting a groan from him as he ran his hands down to her ass.

She worked open the buttons of his shirt until his torso was bare to her.

“Take this off.” She tugged at his collar. He sat up slightly to pull his arms from the sleeves. She threw the flannel to the side. As she raked her fingernails down his chest, she looked at the sight before her and bit her lip. His shoulders were broad and his arms looked like he chopped down trees in his spare time. She squeezed his biceps as she leaned into him and hummed as she kissed him.

She felt his lips curl into a smile as his hands pushed up the bottom of her tank top. She pulled her arms out of her cardigan and broke away from him to pull off her tank. His fingers immediately went to the lace of her bra.

“You’re so beautiful,” he exhaled.

She unhooked her bra and threw it to the floor before guiding his hands back to her breasts. He squeezed them gently as his thumbs grazed her nipples and he moaned into her mouth. She nipped at his lower lip and grinded in his lap.

“Sansa,” he breathed as she unbuckled his belt and pulled it through the loops. She unfastened his jeans before sliding her hand down to stroke him over his boxer briefs. “Sansa,” he repeated, dazed.

She slid off his lap and kneeled on the carpet to pull his remaining clothes off of him. He started to pull her back up when she snaked her hand around his cock and brought her mouth to him. She licked his head before her mouth engulfed him, sliding her lips as close to the base of his cock as she could. He was too big for her to suck completely, so she got him wet with saliva before bringing her hand to stroke the lower half of shaft as her mouth worked the top. His fingers gripped her hair as she swirled her tongue around his head.

“God, Sansa,” he groaned. “Come here.” This time when he moved to pull her up she let him. Instead of pulling her to his lap, he brought her to her feet. He slid his hands to the top of her leggings and tugged them down.

He kissed her over her satin underwear and began to pull them down as well, looking up at her face as his hands slid down her thighs. He was ever his serious self, but there was something new in his eyes she hadn’t seen before. Whatever it was made her long for him.

When she stepped out of her leggings and panties he pulled her to him, pushing her cunt against his face. She gasped as his tongue explored her, sliding up from her vulva to circle her clit and back down again.

He must have noticed her knees begin to wobble because in one fluid motion he scooped her up, sat her in his place on the couch, and knelt before her. He put her knees over his shoulders and yanked her forward. Her bottom was at the very edge of the cushion and she thought she might slip off.

His skillful tongue felt incredible. His hands gripped her ass, kneading her flesh as his tongue rubbed against her clit and dipped deep into her cunt, fucking her. She gasped as he spread her cheeks and ran his tongue down to her ass, licking her hole. After too few moments darting his tongue at her most intimate place, he dove hungrily back into her cunt and groaned.

“God, Sansa, you’re so wet.”

Her eyes shut tight, all she could do was nod and fist his hair. His tongue began to work her clit furiously before he slid back down to her bottom. His mouth massaged her hole and she moaned loudly.

“Do you like that? When I lick you here?”

She whimpered and felt his tongue push against her harder, working its way inside. He shifted his left hand to hold her ass and moved his right to her stomach. His thumb found her clit and began rubbing.

“Oh my god,” she cried, her exclamation thankfully drowned out by the noise of the film nearing its climax.

He groaned, his mouth vibrating against her. Her thighs began to quake.

“Are you gonna come for me, Sansa?” He slid back up to lap at her sopping cunt. “Are you gonna come for me with my tongue in your ass?”

He moved swiftly back down and resumed his ministrations. His thumb never stopped rubbing against her clit.

“I’m… I’m… ah!”

Her orgasm hit her hard and she clamped her thighs around his head. He licked his tongue up from her bottom, over her cunt, and up to her clit, pulling the hood up with his thumb to get the best access. She was sensitive and tried to push him away but he wouldn’t relent. She quickly felt another peak building when he sunk two fingers into her cunt.

“Oh, Jon. Jon!”

He worked her through her second wave crashing over her before finally moving up with her desperate tugs of her fingers in his hair.

He kissed her deeply, his mouth still soaked with her.

“Oh, thank God I don’t taste bad.”

He chuckled. “You taste good everywhere.”

Her face burnt red, thinking of what he had done to her—where his mouth had been.

He lifted her by her thighs, spinning them around to sit her on his lap once more. She rubbed against his hardness, moaning into his mouth.

“We don’t have to go any farther, I’m… very pleased pleasing you.”

He lowered his head and began to suck on her nipples. He bit them gently and the sensation shot pleasure straight between her thighs.

She smiled, continuing to rub against him. “Then keep pleasing me,” she whispered, guiding him to her entrance.

He stilled. “I don’t have a condom,” he lamented.

“I’m on the pill. Is that okay?”

He exhaled in relief. “Yes, that’s very okay.” He pulled her to him and kissed her deeply as she sank down on his cock.

“Oh, God, Sansa.”

His hands gripped her hard everywhere he touched her as she rode him, digging his fingertips into her skin. He sunk his fingers into her hips to slow her pace.

“I don’t know how much longer I can last with you riding me like that,” he said with a smile.

He kissed her intensely as he guided her to a slow grind. He sat up straight and pulled her flush against him. She gasped at the friction.

“Will you come for me again?” He ran his fingers through her hair. “I want to watch you come.”

There was that look again. Focused but dreamy. God, he was perfect.

She pressed her lips to his. “Make me,” she said against his mouth. He groaned and kissed her passionately, pushing his pelvis to hers.

She felt the pressure building and dug her nails into his shoulders. He sucked at her neck before he moved his lips to her ear. “I want to feel you come around my cock.”

His low voice nearly did her in. She moved her hand between them and caressed her clit. He kissed the tops of her breasts before taking a nipple into his mouth once more. She began to pant and he hummed against her.

Her third orgasm seemed to turn her legs to gelatin. Jon held her to him, thrusting up into her, reaching his own peak and filling her with warmth.

“You’re so beautiful, Sansa,” he whispered to her as his movements slowed. “You’re so pretty when you come.”

He kissed her shoulder and traced her spine with his fingers while she shuddered against him.

They sat in silence for a while, letting their breathing settle and heart rates ease back into a normal range.

“Jon…”

He kissed her softly. “We don’t have to talk about it. Unless you want to.”

She nodded, rubbing her nose against his. “Will you stay here tonight?”

“Of course,” he whispered.

“Good. Now, let’s go upstairs before we make a mess on this couch.”

 

After sharing her old room with Arya for the first few months after the accident, Sansa decided to take the master bedroom for herself. At first she felt odd, sleeping in her parent’s bed, but now it was a comfort. Plus, it was hard to feel like an adult sleeping in a twin.

When she and Jon reached her room, she suggested they take a quick shower to clean up. They didn’t do anything except for wash and kiss one another tenderly, but it was an intimate experience. She lingered in the bathroom to towel off her hair while Jon made himself comfortable.

When she exited the master bath, she caught him looking at the photos on the nightstand. “Is it too weird for you? To sleep in here?” she asked him. “I’m sorry, I didn’t even think—”

“It’s fine,” he assured her. “I was just… admiring the couple they were. These photos really captured how much they loved each other.”

“I know. That’s one of the reasons I’ve left them out.”

He nodded and reached for her. “Come here.”

She crawled into bed and he pulled her close, her back to his chest. She sighed happily, reveling in the feeling of her naked body against his. He softly kissed her temple, her cheek, her neck, and her shoulder.

“I know I said we don’t have talk about it,” he said, his lips still grazing her shoulder, “and I don’t want you to feel any pressure over this or what it meant or how it changes things…”

Her heart sank. It’s been more than a year and a half of him stopping by most days, getting groceries, fixing things around the house, staying for dinner, and helping the kids with their homework. He’s been the only person she could talk to, the only person she could rely on or trust. _Would he back off now?_ She couldn’t bear the thought.

“…but I don’t want you to think this was a one-night thing for me. I’ve thought about this, about being with you, for a… very long time.”

She turned her head to him and pulled him to her lips, kissing him eagerly. “Me too, Jon,” she breathed. “I… you’ve been… you’re everything to me.”

He turned her body to him fully and hugged her to his chest. “You’re everything to me,” he whispered into her ear.

She kissed his throat as hot tears began to burn down her face.

“Sansa,” he breathed, kissing the corner of her eye.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to be such a mess,” she laughed.

“You don’t need to apologize,” he assured her.

“I’m just overwhelmed. I’m so happy you’re the one that’s here with me. I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“You’d be fine. You’re stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

As her older brother’s best friend, Jon had been privy to many aspects of Sansa’s life she’d prefer he not know. Robb had driven home from West Point in a rage when he found out about Joffrey, and had Jon in tow. He’d seen her at the hospital, face beaten black-eyed and bloody, waiting to hear if she was bleeding internally. He didn’t know about Ramsay, though. No one did. She’d tell him. Eventually.

She shuddered at the memories, angry at herself for allowing them into what should be a blissful moment.

Jon’s phone lit up the wall from where it lay on the floor, vibrating against the carpet. He groaned and rolled away to grab it.

“Sorry, I’ll turn it off.”

“Who is calling you at this hour? A booty call?” she teased with a grin.

He sighed, sitting up and rubbing his temples.

“Ygritte?!” she asked, stunned as she read the name flashing on the screen. “You two are... talking again?”

“Not exactly.”

Jon had a tumultuous breakup with his first love not long after the accident. He’d told Sansa bits and pieces, but all she really knew was that they had met in college and had been together nearly five years. She was one of the few female cadets at West Point. Jon had said she was fierce, independent, and stubborn. It was no secret he had been enamored with her. Their relationship had exploded at the end and Jon never wished to speak about it. Sansa had never pried; Ygritte had always made her feel insecure and the less she came up, the better.

She stared at him, wondering if he had really meant those things or if she was just a bedwarmer.

“It’s not what you think. Well, it is, but it’s not.”

She cocked an eyebrow.

“She’s done this before. Texts me out of the blue asking to ‘come over and talk.’ But instead of talking, what it ends up being is drinking, arguing, and then hate-fucking and in the morning she’s gone and I don’t hear from her for months.”

“That’s awful.”

“Yeah. Anyway, she asked to ‘come over and talk’ tonight. I told her I was eating dinner here and didn’t know what time I’d be done. She texted during the movie and I told her that something came up and I would be here until late. She’s probably just leaving a bar now and decided to see if third time would be a charm.”

“Do you still love her?”

“What?”

“Sorry,” Sansa blushed, embarrassed at herself for asking. “That’s none of my business.”

He tossed the phone to the ground and pulled her to him. “No, it’s fine, and no, I don’t. After the last time we saw each other I was glad she was gone in the morning—I was dreading the possibility that she’d actually want to talk about getting back together. I realized it wasn’t what I wanted at all. She wasn’t who I wanted.”

“And who do you want?”

He grinned as he leaned to kiss her. “I think you know.”

She smiled against his mouth. “Hmm. I don’t know that I do.”

He moved atop her and pulled her back down the bed. “Is there anything I can do to make it more obvious?”

“I can think of a few things.”


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One-shot no longer!!! I couldn't resist. Thank you all for your support and advice!

_BANG BANG BANG_

“Sansaaaa!”

Sansa winced at the cacophony outside her door. It was too early to be awake. Jon’s warm, strong arms wrapped around her and all she wanted was to stay in this bed for eternity.

“What?” Sansa asked, her voice slightly hoarse. “What is it?”

“Jon’s car is blocking mine in and Syrio will kill me if I’m late! Did he Lyft home or something? I’ve looked for him everywhere but can’t find him!” Arya whined on the other side of the door.

Jon’s embrace stiffened and they looked at each other with wide eyes. Sansa sat up, rubbing her face with her hands.

“Um… we had some wine and I thought he slept on the couch. Are you sure he’s not downstairs or… outside?”

“Ugh!” Arya huffed. “I’ll go—oh, thank fuck. Never mind! Gendry is picking me up. Tell Jon he’s an asshole!”

Sansa laughed and relaxed into the bed. “I’ll be sure to relay the message.”

Jon’s grin lit up his face, making his eyes crinkle. They heard Arya bound down the hallway.

“That was a close one,” he mumbled into her neck as her rolled over her.

“Too close.”

“Oh?” he said with a smirk as he kissed between her breasts. “Are you ashamed of me? Things aren’t so pretty in the bright light of morning?”

She rolled her eyes and tossed a pillow at his head. “Yeah, I’m nursing a pretty bad case of fucker’s remorse.”

He laughed against her stomach. “Is that so?”

“Yes, I’m very unsatisfied.”

He kissed her hip. “I find that hard to believe.”

“Do you?”

“I think I know how to satisfy you.”

“After one night?” she asked with an eyebrow raised.

He bit her thigh. “You have your tells.”

She laughed and rolled her eyes. She didn’t know about any tells, but she couldn’t deny that Jon was a fastidiously attentive lover. He paid close attention to how her body reacted to where and how he touched her, learning what she liked and what she wanted in the moment. He actively relished pleasing her and got off on making her come, which only made her burn hotter for him.

“Oh!” she gasped as his mouth made its way down her mound.

He grinned against her. “See?”

He gripped her hips as his tongue continued its ministrations. Seeing him do this in the daylight was an entirely new experience. He looked up and locked his eyes with hers. Her heart raced. Every second that went by was more intense than the last.

Her cheeks seared red and she had to look away, opting to throw her head back and close her eyes. She clung to the sheets and tension coiled in her belly.

Just as she was nearing the edge he pulled away. “Jonnnn,” she whined, panting.

His hand replaced his tongue caressing her as he moved up to kiss her deeply. “Come with me,” he whispered, his voice sultry and low. He pressed his forehead to hers as he slowly pushed his cock inside her. She arched her back and inhaled sharply, still tender from making love twice the night before. He pulled back to look at her and stilled. “Are you sore?” he asked sympathetically. “We can do other things.”

“No,” she said hurriedly, pulling him back to her. “I mean, yes, but don’t stop.”

He kissed her as he began to move within her, every stroke gentle and deliberate. She loved the feel of him on top of her, hugging her, protecting her. She ran her fingers over the muscles of his back and through his hair as he kissed her lips, face, and neck.

He leaned back, lifting up her legs and pulling her ankles over his shoulders before lowering himself back down to her. She bit her lip at the new sensations of this position, with him filling her even more precisely. He grabbed her hand and kissed it before bringing it to where their bodies met so she could rub herself. She wasted no time, anxious to reach the peak she had gotten so close to minutes earlier.

His tempo increased with her pants and she dug the fingernails of her free hand into his shoulder.

“Jon,” she breathed. “Jon.”

He pressed his mouth to hers to muffle her moans just as she began trembling beneath him. His pace accelerated rapidly and he gripped her thigh hard.

“Sansa!” he cried into her ear before collapsing atop her. After a few ragged breaths, he kissed her collarbone and managed to pull himself up enough to unpin her legs before crashing down again. She held him to her tightly.

“Sansa,” he groaned, wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her neck. She was content to stay like this, basking in the afterglow.

“I don’t know what to do,” Jon lamented.

She laughed. “I think you’ve proven yourself very capable.”

“I’m glad,” he chuckled, “but that’s not what I meant.”

“What then?”

He kissed her neck. “All I want to do is stay in this bed, inside you, and never leave.”

She brought his face to hers and stared into his warm brown eyes. “Then don’t,” she whispered, kissing him.

No one had ever kissed her like Jon did. He was passionate, present, and measured. He treated kissing as its own pleasure instead of a means to an end. She was certain she could stay in this bed with him for hours, just kissing.

“God,” he exhaled, when they finally broke apart. He rolled onto his back beside her and stared at the ceiling. “I don’t know what to do.”

She turned on her side and tucked herself under his arm. “Didn’t we just have this conversation?”

“Yes, but nothing has changed the fact that I’m addicted to you now.”

“Addicted? You’re so dramatic.” 

He chortled. “Maybe. But now…”

“Now what?”

“Now that I know… now that we…”

She pressed her lips to his chest, anxious for him to finish his thought.

“I can’t go back to how things were. I want to be with you, Sansa. I don’t want to make you feel pressured, or—”

Her mouth found his and stopped his prattling. When she broke the kiss, she looked down at his face, her hair a curtain of red around them. He looked so vulnerable.

“I want to be with you too,” she whispered as she stroked her thumb along his jaw. “Oh, Jon. I think I’ve been in love with you but never knew it.”

He looked surprised. “Is that even possible?”

She slid down on his chest, resting her head on his shoulder. “I don’t think I let myself see it. I had to protect myself. I don’t think I could survive any more heartache. I never thought you felt anything for me more than obligation. Maybe friendship.”

“Obligation? Sansa.” He inched down to look into her eyes.

“I know differently now, Jon. It’s alright.”

“I thought the same about you, you know.”

“You did?”

“That you were only nice to me out of obligation. Because I helped out. After a while I could tell you liked having me around, at least sometimes, but I thought we would never be anything more than friends, eventually, at best. I still tried, though. I tried to make sure I was always there when you needed me and was someone you could count on. I tried to be sensitive of your feelings and do things that would make you smile. I hoped that, maybe, one day, when you were ready and if you felt the same, things could happen between us. But until then, I just wanted to build something with you, stone by stone.”

She stared at his thoughtful face and her heart swelled.

“Did you know my mother was engaged to my father’s older brother Brandon?”

“What?” His brow crinkled and he looked woefully confused.

“After he died, my father’s parents encouraged him to pursue her. They loved her dearly and didn’t want to lose her from their lives as well. Plus, they’d apparently always thought she and he would make a better match.”

“That’s… awkward.”

Sansa laughed. “You’d think so, but apparently my father had pined for her all along. But, you know him, ever honorable, ever respectful. So, he never told my mother how he felt. Instead, he was there for her. He comforted her, supported her, was a friend she could rely on. He told me when I was young that he loved her so much he only wanted her to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him. But, when other suitors came calling, he couldn’t hide his jealousy. She saw right through him and he thought he’d ruined everything.”

Jon’s face had softened. “So, how did it happen? How did they end up together?”

“He gave her some space and she realized that she missed him. Missed him much more than a friend.”

“And that was that?”

“Not quite. She told him how she felt but that she wanted to take things slowly. She told me they built their love over time… stone by stone. She said they worked to make a foundation they could build upon, and always kept working and building. Up until the end.” She fought off the urge to cry. “That’s all I’ve ever wanted. A love like theirs. Something deep and real.”

He kissed her sweetly, stroking her face as his lips gently met hers. She felt his mouth smile against hers.

“Sorry things got a little fast in the last 24 hours.”

She laughed. “I think the last year and a half were slow enough.”

“True.”

They spent another few hours in bed, lazily kissing and falling in and out of sleep.

 

Sansa awoke in the afternoon to the door handle rattling.

She heard Arya’s concerned voice from the other side. “Sansa? Are you still asleep? Why is your door locked?”

Jon didn’t immediately stir. “I’m fine,” she called groggily. “Just a little hungover. I’ll be out in a bit.”

“Um, alright. Did you talk to Jon?”

“What?”

“Is he coming back for his car?”

“Oh, right. Um, yeah, I think he’ll be over later.”

“Alrighty then,” Arya called as she walked away, her voice tinged with skepticism.

“If you think we can fool her you’re sorely mistaken,” Jon mused with his eyes still closed.

Sansa groaned. “You’re right. We need to tell them— Jon, what the fuck are we going to tell them?”

“I mean, we can just tell them we care about each other a lot and I might be around a bit more than they’re used to…”

“Oh God, this is going to be so awkward.”

“Oh, come on. They all love me.”

“Yeah, like a brother!”

Jon grimaced.

She immediately tried to mitigate her outburst. “But I guess if we can help them understand that I don’t think about you that way and it’s always been different for us…”

“I would hope.”

Sansa scoffed. “You know I never saw you as a brother. I was a self-centered teenager when you moved in with us. We barely saw each other. And when we did I was a snob.”

“You weren’t that bad.”

“I was awful.”

“You were occasionally awful,” he chuckled. “But that girl seems like she was a different person entirely.”

Sansa’s smile faded. “She was.”

Jon frowned. “We’re all different. But in mostly good ways, at least I think. I know we’re stronger. And we’re kinder.”

“You’ve always been strong and kind.”

“So have you.”

She rolled her eyes.

“You have, whether you admit it or not. I know you, Sansa Stark. I’ve known you for most of our lives so I think I can speak on this with some authority.”

“I think I know myself better than you do.”

“Maybe, but you don’t get the luxury of seeing all the things I see.”

“The luxury?”

He grinned. “Yes, the luxury.” He pulled her to him and kissed her. “But as luxurious as this morning has been, we should probably leave this bed before it’s dark outside.”

She whined, but knew he was right. She watched as his naked frame sauntered to her bathroom and missed it as soon as he shut the door behind him. For someone so chiseled, his ass was round and luscious. She made a mental note to grab it next time he fucked her in a position that would allow it.

She heard the toilet flush and the sink run. “Will it gross you out if I use your toothbrush?” his muffled voice called.

She got up and walked to the door, tapping her fingers on it before opening it. “Not if you let me use it first,” she said, grabbing the brush from him and moving before the counter.

She looked up at the mirror to see him standing behind her, staring. “Are you going to watch me the whole time?” she asked, her mouth full of toothpaste.

“So long as your boobs keep jiggling along with your brushing, yeah.”

She nearly choked trying to stifle a giggle. “You’re ridiculous,” she said after she spit into the sink.

“My turn?” he asked.

“In a minute. Get out, I have to pee.”

He laughed. “I can’t brush my teeth while you pee?”

She shook her head annoyed. “We aren’t there yet, Jon. Plus, I’m weird about these things. I’ll turn on the sink if I think anyone can hear me.”

“Yeah, I pieced that one together last night.”

“Get out,” she whined, ushering him out the door with a gentle shove.

After she washed her hands, she put her hair in a bun and turned on the shower.

“Can I come back in now?” she heard through the door.

“Yes,” she said as she opened it, smiling sweetly at him. “We should probably shower together, just in case someone gets suspicious at hearing the water running twice.”

“Right, because I’m sure me exiting your bedroom in last night’s clothes won’t tip anyone off.”

“We’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

“In 20 minutes?”

“Shut up and brush your teeth,” she ordered as she disappeared behind the shower curtain.

 

When they were finally ready to emerge from Sansa’s room, she turned to him with a serious look. “I’m going to make sure the coast is clear. Then, we’ll go downstairs and you should be able to slip out the front door. The boys are probably in the family room watching TV or playing video games, hopefully along with Arya. If she’s in her room instead, I might have to go and distract her.”

Jon shook his head. “We aren’t running covert ops here. We could always fess up and just say I spent the night. I think Arya’s mature enough to deal with that and I don’t think Bran or Rickon will assume anything… nefarious.”

“Oh, fucking me is nefarious, is it?”

“I just meant—”

“I’m kidding. But no, I’d rather not just be cavalier about this with Arya right now. I’m pretty sure she and that Gendry boy have something going on and I don’t want to set an example for her she thinks is appropriate for her to follow at 16.”

Jon acquiesced. “I get it.”

“Thank you,” she whispered as she unlocked the door. “Alright, let me see if anyone’s around.”

She intended to only open the door a crack, but as soon as she turn the handle and began to pull it was suddenly thrust open from the outside. Two wide Stark eyes met hers before they narrowed.

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” spat Arya.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Feedback is everything to me, so please comment with your thoughts!


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry it took me so long to update. I had a lot of real-life responsibilities rear their heads and wanted to get this right. As always, I appreciate your feedback!

“Arya, wait!” Sansa cried after her, but she was already down the stairs and headed for the door. “Arya! Stop! Where are you going?”

“Out! Away from you!”

Her sister threw the front door open and stormed out onto the porch and wailed. “God damn it! Jon is still fucking blocking in my fucking car!”

Sansa finally caught up to her, grabbing her around the arms. “Arya, please. Let’s talk about this.”

“I don’t want to talk to you!” she shouted as she struggled free from Sansa’s constraining embrace.

“Please, Arya, it’s not what you think.”

“So you aren’t fucking Jon?” she huffed.

Sansa stared at her wide eyed, trying to find the right words. “Jon and I care about each oth—”

“Ugggggggggh!” she screamed and ran down the driveway.

“Where are you going?”

“For a walk!”

“Let her go,” Jon whispered from behind her. “She needs to cool off.”

Sansa glared at him, tears pooling in her eyes.

“Do you at least have your phone?” she shouted down the street.

Arya held it up without looking back, extending her middle finger. Jon tried to stifle a laugh.

“You think this is funny? Where is she going? To whom? When will she be back?” She began to crumble. “What have we done?”

“Sansa, come on, she’ll be fine.” He hugged her to him. “She’s a hot head. I’ll talk to her when she comes back. She’s probably just afraid we’re going to fuck everything up.”

She lifted her head from his chest. “And you aren’t?”

“Oh, no, I’m completely terrified. But it’s worth it, don’t you think?”

She smiled as she pulled his mouth to hers. “Definitely worth it,” she mumbled against his lips.

When they turned to go back inside, they saw the shocked faces of two little boys through the picture window.

“Oh, for fuck’s sake.”

 

“But I thought Jon was our big brother,” Rickon whined, perplexed.

“I know Jon has been like a big brother to you and that doesn’t need to change. But he’s not our brother and I’ve never thought of him that way.”

“But Robb was our brother. And Robb told us Jon was his brother. Doesn’t that make Jon our brother too?” His little forehead was worked into a knot.

Rickon was barely a toddler when Jon had moved in with the Starks before he and Robb left for college, so his confusion was somewhat understandable. But Sansa didn’t know how to break this down any further. She looked to Jon, pleading.

“Robb and I were best friends and we loved each other like brothers. Just like I love you two like brothers. But Sansa and I never saw each other that way.”

Bran nodded and turned his head toward Rickon. “Jon and Sansa love _us_ like brothers, Rickon, but they love each other in a different way. Like our mother and father loved each other.”

Sansa was grateful for the unexpected wisdom her 12-year-old brother seemed to possess.

Rickon’s eyes went wide. “Are you going to get married?” he asked excitedly.

Jon laughed as he grabbed Sansa’s hand. “Maybe one day.”

Sansa felt her cheeks burn red as he continued. “But for right now, not much will change. I might be around a bit more often, if that’s okay with you two.”

“Yes!” Rickon squealed, launching himself at Jon, who grunted at the impact. He released Sansa’s hand to hoist the wild little boy into his arms.

“Good. Now, what do you two want for dinner tonight? Should we cook for Sansa for a change since she always cooks for us?”

The boys gleefully agreed and the trio disappeared into the kitchen. Sansa collapsed onto the couch. None of this had gone how she hoped, but at least everything was out in the open now. No more secrets.

She grabbed her phone and texted her sister.

**_Hey. I know you’re upset and I’m sorry things went down the way they did. I love you and I hope we can talk whenever you feel ready. Xo_ **

After a few minutes, she saw Arya was typing and sighed with relief. Finally, a reply popped up on the screen.

**K.**

_God damn it._

 

Dinner was classic Stark kid comfort food: macaroni and cheese with cut up pieces of hot dog.

“So gourmet,” Sansa teased.

Jon grinned and ruffled her youngest brother’s auburn hair. “Ricky’s choice.”

It was actually a perfect meal. Other than a few straggling questions from Rickon, the boys seemed to be unfazed by the afternoon’s events. Her brothers abandoned them immediately after eating to finish the video game they’d been distracted from earlier.

“Easy cleanup,” Jon mused as he gathered the plates from the table and took them to the sink.

As he rinsed off the dishes, Sansa came up behind him and snaked her arms around his waist.

“Thank you for cooking,” she mumbled into his back.

He chuckled. “I hope you know this isn’t the extent of my culinary skills. I promise I’ll cook you a proper meal sometime soon.”

She hopped up to sit on the counter next to him. “How about for my birthday?”

“Wouldn’t you rather go out somewhere nice?”

Sansa laughed. “If you want to take me somewhere nice I’m not going to argue.”

“Okay, good,” he said as he put the last of the dishes into the dish washer.

The idea of going on an actual date with Jon was exhilarating. She couldn’t even remember the last time she’d been out on a date, let alone out with a man like Jon. _There are no other men like Jon,_ she mused to herself.

“What are you smirking about?” Jon lightheartedly inquired as he dried his hands.

“You.”

“Is that so?” he asked as he ran his hands up her thighs and under her cropped sweatshirt to her waist.

She looped her arms around his neck. “Yes.”

“What about me is so smirk-worthy, then?”

“You’re just so perfect.”

Jon grunted a laugh. “I can assure you I am not.”

“You are to me,” she said, her voice soft as she looked into his eyes. His eyelashes were so thick and his brown irises so warm. Her gaze dropped to his lush lips as she pulled him to her.

His neat beard tickled her face when they kissed, but luckily his facial hair was soft and didn’t chafe her skin. She’d never kissed anyone with a beard before him and was surprised at how easily acclimated she already was to it. She ran her fingers along his jaw, reveling in his quiet masculinity. She hummed softly against his lips.

His grip on her waist tightened and she felt his fingernails dig into her skin. “You keep make noises like that,” he growled huskily as he gently bit her lip, “and we’ll have to take this upstairs.”

She giggled, wrapping her legs around him. “You’re insatiable.”

He kissed her cheek and she felt his breath hot on her ear. “And you’re not?” he rumbled, his teeth nipping at her earlobe. She moaned as his lips moved to her neck. She dug her nails into his back as he grinded against her.

“Oh, how quickly you forget our physical limitations,” she sighed, running a hand down his body to the front of his jeans. She felt his thick hardness and bit her lip. “You’re a lot to accommodate, Jon Snow.”

“Like I said, we can do other things,” he breathed.

She smiled and guided his face before her once more. His mouth sought hers desperately.

“After the boys go to bed,” she whispered between kisses, “and after Arya’s home. I want to be here in case she wants to talk.”

Jon nodded, sighing. “That would be the responsible thing to do.”

“You know me.”

“I do,” he said with a grin. “Can I keep kissing you?”

Sansa laughed. “You can kiss me whenever you want.”

“Always,” he mumbled against her lips.

“Hmm?”

“I always want to kiss you. Every time I see you face or hear your voice or smell your hair or touch your skin. All I can think about is kissing you.”

“Just kissing?”

Jon chuckled. “Well, most other things start with kissing. But until last night, I was still imagining what just kissing you would be like.” He ran his thumb over her mouth. “I memorized the shape of your lips, imagining how soft they’d feel, how sweet you would taste.”

Sansa kissed him deeply to keep herself from melting into the counter. “Is that all you’d imagine?”

He laughed. “I tried to only let my mind wander to more perverse things when I was at home alone at night.”

Sansa smiled against his mouth. “And what perverse things did you think about?”

Jon groaned. “If we start talking about this I don’t know if I will be able to wait until later tonight.”

“Tell me,” she implored, gripping his shirt.

He kissed her jaw and throat as his fingers played with the waistband of her leggings. “I thought about the sounds you’d make, what you’d look like when you came, the way that you’d feel around me.” He slipped his hand underneath the fabric he’d been toying with and into her panties. “But what I thought about most of all,” he rasped as he stroked down into her wetness and up to her clit, “is how sweet you would taste… here.”

She clutched his back as he crooked a finger inside her and moaned into his mouth as his thumb worked her clit.

“I’d think about you,” he growled against her ear, “naked in _my_ bed, your fiery hair splayed over _my_ pillows, your hands clutching _my_ sheets, your body trembling from _my_ touch and writhing underneath _my_ mouth.”

“Jon,” she keened, bucking against him.

“I told you I’d win!” squealed Rickon as he began bounding up the basement stairwell.

Jon and Sansa snapped apart and she ached for his touch as soon as it left her. She hopped off the counter as Jon backed up to the other side of the kitchen. She watched with wide eyes as he brought his hand to his mouth and sucked his fingers clean. Her heart pounded in her chest.

“I won! Sansa, I beat Bran!”

“Well,” she said as she composed herself, “it sounds like that deserves a victory treat, don’t you think?”

She heard the whirring of the chair lift come to a halt and looked up to see Bran grinning at her as he unbuckled himself and swung into his wheelchair.

“Does ice cream sound good?”

The duo cheered as they sped to the fridge to pick out flavors and toppings.

 

Despite the sugar high, it didn’t take long for the boys to crash. Once they were both in bed, Sansa sat on the living room couch with Jon and sighed. “Arya’s still not back.”

“Yeah, but she’s a smart girl. Smarter than either of us were at her age. You know she’s with someone she trusts and is processing things how she needs to process them.”

“I know. I think I’ll feel better if I text her again though.”

“And say what?”

“That I understand she needs space but I just need her to let me know she’s somewhere safe.”

“That sounds reasonable enough.”

Sansa grabbed her phone and sent Arya a text. Jon pulled her to him and they slid down on the couch to lay together.

Her phone vibrated only a minute later.

**I’m fine. Will be home in the morning.**

Sansa held the screen up for him to read.

“Well, that’s an upgrade from the ‘k’ she sent earlier.”

She laughed. “Yeah, from one letter to two whole sentences. There may be hope yet.” She set the phone back down and paused. “What if she’s with Gendry?”

Jon shrugged. “He’s a good lad. They’re both very mature and care about each other.”

Sansa pulled back and gave him a confused look.

“Arya and I talk. You’re not the only one who is there for her.”

She nodded, relaxing into him again. “I’m glad. But he’s older and—I’d rather think she’s at Myrcella’s.”

“She probably is. They’re as thick as thieves.”

She smiled. That was true. On the surface, Myrcella appeared much more reserved and lady-like than Arya, but underneath her prim and proper exterior she was just as wild as her sister could be. Not that the two ever got into any _real_ trouble.

She felt Jon’s lips on her cheek. “Do you want to go downstairs and watch a movie or something?”

“Is that code?”

Jon laughed. “No, I just figured we’ll still be up for a while since we slept in so late. And I’m sure you have a lot on your mind and could stand the relaxation. But if you want it to be code it can be.”

Sansa turned her head to his and kissed him. “I like the idea of relaxing for a bit. But we can just stream something in bed.”

“Sansa Stark,” he said, feigning scandalization, “are you asking me to Netflix and chill?”

She rolled her eyes as she sat up and pulled him toward her bedroom.

 

The morning sunlight seeping through the blinds warmed Sansa’s face as she slowly blinked her eyes open. Jon was laying on his side, facing away from her. She reached for him and ran her fingers along his sinewy back. He was always so warm. Her mind flashed back to the night before and how his skin had seared under her touch.

As soon as they had reached her room, they began helping each other out of their clothes. Sansa had fully intended to change into pajamas and flip on Netflix, but as Jon’s lips kissed each bit of skin being revealed as he undressed her she forgot any reason for her plans. After last night, she was certain there wasn’t an inch of her he hadn’t touched and tasted nor an inch of him she hadn’t done the same.

When he didn’t stir, she pulled herself against him, wrapping her arm around his waist as her breasts pressed against his back.

“Are you the big spoon now?” he mumbled groggily.

She exhaled a soft laugh and kissed between his shoulder blades. “Yes. Do you mind being the little spoon?”

“Not at all. I quite like it.”

“Good,” she murmured against his skin. She breathed in his manly scent and sighed happily.

“There is one problem, though.”

“Oh?”

“I can’t see you.”

She smirked. “That’s probably for the best. It’s the morning; I’m sure I look a right mess.”

He grunted a laugh. “A pretty mess.”

“Oh, thanks.”

He rolled over and tried to run his fingers through her tangled hair.

“Told you. A mess.”

“Still pretty,” he breathed as he brought his lips to hers. His fingers gripped her hair as hers grazed the stubble on his jaw. “I wish I could wake up to you every morning.”

Sansa hummed as she deepened the kiss. Her heart sank as she remembered that Jon would have to go back to his place and probably wouldn’t sleep over again until next weekend. “Me too.”

He moved his lips to her neck and pulled her snugly against him. His arms enveloped her and Sansa realized she had never felt so safe, so cared for, so _loved._ She tensed at the epiphany.

“Are you alright?” Jon asked, pulling back to look at her.

Her eyes were wide and she tried to relax. She nodded as she reached up to cup his face. “I’m just still getting used to this is all.”

“Getting used to me?”

“You… treating me like you do. I’ve never… been with somebody who cared for me. Not like this.” She stroked his cheek. “And it’s all been so sudden. It’s just hard to believe it’s real.”

Jon’s eyebrows knit together as he searched her face. “You don’t think what we feel for each other is real?”

She sighed. “I’m worried you’ll change your mind. That this will all go away as quickly as it started.”

“Never,” he whispered as he kissed her forehead.

“How can you say that, though? You don’t know—”

“I do,” he interrupted, pressing his lips to hers. “And I’ll spend every day for the rest of my life proving it to you.”

“The rest of your life?” Sansa questioned with a disbelieving laugh.

“Yes,” he breathed as his eyes looked deep into hers. Her heart raced. When their lips met again it was hard and intense and Sansa felt the world turn into a blur as he guided her onto her back. His calloused hand caressed between her thighs as he moved over her but all she wanted in that moment was him inside her. She grasped at him and positioned him between her legs.

She gasped against his mouth as he slid inside her and dug her nails into his skin. They hadn’t made love the night before, not completely at least, and she _missed him._ She wrapped her legs around him and hugged him to her, wanting him as close as possible. His powerful arms reciprocated her embrace and her emotions overwhelmed her again.

“I love you,” she exhaled. All remaining air left her lungs as soon as she realized the words had audibly escaped her.

Jon stilled and his eyes were wild as they flashed open before hers.

Her heart palpitated and she began to stammer a retraction. “I, I just—”

“Sansa.” His mouth crashed into hers as her thoughts raced. His hands were suddenly cradling her face as he began moving within her again.

“I love you too. I love you. I love you.” He chanted the words like a prayer as he resumed his rhythm before it became erratic.

She felt him pulse inside her as she held him close, his lips fused to hers.

“I’m sorry, I—”

“No,” she said in a hushed tone, tightening her grip around him when she felt him begin to pull away. “No, you’re perfect. Stay.”

He relaxed atop her. “Always,” he breathed into the crook of her neck. “I love you.”

 

When Sansa awoke again, Jon was laying on his stomach beside her. He was easy to admire this way. His typically furled brow was relaxed in his sleep. His full lips slightly parted. His muscles rippled throughout his arms, back, and legs. His body seemed sculpted by the gods. _He’s a work of art._

She leaned over and lightly kissed his cheek before rolling out of bed to get ready. She wanted to be up when Arya got home if she wasn’t back already.

Sansa emerged from her room and inspected the house. Cereal bowls in the sink indicated that the boys had gotten up and she heard laughs coming from the family room downstairs. She smiled, relieved that the boys were able to live so happily. She just hoped that she, and Jon, could be enough to fill even half of her parents’ shoes. The boys deserved to still have a good upbringing, as did Arya.

As if on cue, a car pulled into the driveway. Sansa peered out the window and saw Arya in the passenger seat and Gendry in the driver’s. Her sister leaned over and kissed the older boy languidly before he pulled away and pressed his lips to her forehead. He seemed to be reassuring her, talking her through something. She nodded to him before exiting the car. Sansa retreated so she wouldn’t be seen before Arya entered the house. Her heart pounded as the door opened.

“Arya,” Sansa sighed. “I’m so glad you’re home.”

“Are you?” Her voice was hoarse.

“Of course I am. I’m glad you’re home and _safe._ But you can’t just leave like that and not let me know where you are.”

“It’s not your business.”

“It _is_ my business, Arya!”

“I was with Gendry,” she said, crossing her arms.

Sansa swallowed. “All night?”

Arya’s face hardened. “Yes. All night.”

Sansa shook her head. “This is my fault.”

“Not everything is about _you,_ Sansa!”

“But you’re my responsibility!”

“You’re not my mother!”

Sansa felt as though she’d been struck. “I know I’m not your mother! We don’t have a mother anymore. But you still need a mother and until you’re of age that’s what I will try to be for you and Bran and Rickon.”

“I’m not a child!”

“Yes, you are! You may not feel like one but you are in the eyes of the law and you are to me. My childhood feels like a distant memory but I want you to be able to finish growing up as normally as possible!”

“Oh, yes, Saint Sansa. You may have become our guardian but don’t act like you always put us first. Jon is the only stable thing in our lives—”

“And I’m not? Everything I do is for you! I gave up _everything_ to come back here and raise you. You would have been wards of the state!”

“You would have had to come back anyway! How would you have continued to pay tuition? Maybe if we were in foster care at least Bran’s medical bills would have been paid for by the state. But then you couldn’t be a _martyr.”_

Sansa felt tears streaming down her cheeks. “Is that what you think of me? Truly?”

“How else could you be so selfish? What happens when you’re done fucking around with Jon? What happens when we have to live without him too? You don’t care if you ruin _everything!”_

“How could I be so selfish? How could _you_ be so selfish? Jon and I love each other! He is my only source of happiness or sanity!”

Arya’s eyes narrowed. “You _love_ each other?!”

Sansa nodded. “Yes. We do. And we’re just as scared as you are about messing things up. But we care about each other and you and Bran and Rickon and that’s not going to change.”

Her sister’s face softened. “Well, I would hope not.”

Sansa opened her mouth to reply but was cut off. “Listen, Sansa, I’m tired. I’m going to go lay down. I’m sorry for being so… snappy.”

And with that, Arya darted up the stairs.

Sansa stood there, hugging herself and replaying Arya’s words. _But then you couldn’t be a martyr._

“Hey.” A low voice pulled her out of her thoughts. She threw her arms around Jon’s neck and sobbed into his chest. He hushed her soothingly.

“I overheard the argument. She’s a haughty teenager, Sansa. She’ll come around.”

“You heard? Why didn’t you come to my defense?”

“I knew you could hold your own. You’re no damsel in distress.”

“No. Apparently, I’m a martyr.”

Jon scoffed. “Please. If anything, you’re a survivor.”

Sansa frowned, shuddering as flashes of her darkest memory began to invade her mind. “You have no idea,” she whispered.


End file.
